Chapter Six
Like most morning, today started off no different. Hershel go up at the crack of dawn, got washed and dressed before most of the prison residents even woke up. Gripping his cloth wrapped crutches, Hershel stood up slightly unsteadily off the bed. Though losing him leg had by most means complicated his already struggling life, he was thankful.
Thankful to God for allowing him extra time with his daughters, and thankful to Rick for saving his life. But as he slowly made his way down to the cellblock floor, he worried for his close friend and leader. Rick was due back yesterday evening. He had managed to placate the residents about their people's lateness. But if they didn't come back today, he was afraid a decision would have to be made.
"Hershel."
He looked up to see Carol rushing towards him. Her short hair was slightly flat, suggesting she had just gotten up.
"Any news?" Carol asked wrapping her thin arms around herself.
"Nothing," Hershel regretfully sighed, gripping his crutch tighter.
He had stayed up until early morning, barely sleeping, hoping they would come through the gates. But they didn't.
Carol nodded, more to herself then him, and unconsciously stroke the back of her hair down.
"What do we do?" she asked.
"Carry on. Prey that they get home today," Hershel replied, taking a breath before adding, "And if anyone asks, say everything's fine. Just keep everyone busy."
Carol watched him and sighed deeply. Worry lining her face. A metal clang announced the arrival of Maggie and Sasha. They strode into the kitchen area, slowing once they saw Hershel and Carol.
"We just come in from patrol," Sasha said, swinging her rifle to a more comfortable position between her shoulder blades.
Hershel looked at them expectantly, but Maggie shook her head.
"We came to get something to eat and we'll head back out," Maggie added.
"I'm sure Mal or Kelly can take over once they up-," Carol said looking at Maggie's bloodshot eyes.
"No," Maggie interrupted firmly. "I need to be there. I need to be there when they come back."
Hershel lowered his head from her daughters fierceness. Part of them was saddened by the loss of his baby girl. But the bigger part was proud.
An hour later, the once quiet cellblock was a buzz with activity. The kids, like usual, were sat at the tables waiting for everyone to get there. While the adults, talking over there drinks and food, prepared for their days ahead.
Hershel sat in his seat looking over the minor scratches and blisters acquired from working the field, or sunburn from baking under the mid day sun. His crutches leaned against the wall, almost making his forget as he worked through the small line. Beth was sat by his side, feeding baby Judith contently.
Wiping the salty sweat for her forehead, Maggie squeezed her eyes with her thumb and fingers. Sweat had dripped into them. The constant squinting and straining didn't help her tired eyes any. Her back ache from standing most of the day and night yesterday gave her a headache. But she refused to move. Feeling Sasha's pacing form behind her, gave her some strength.
A sound echoed back to them from the distance. Sasha stilled and Maggie readied her shotgun. The noise got louder and louder as it came through the forest. It was the roar of a motorbike. Maggie smiled and turned to Sasha. She nodded and smiled back before whistling for little Mike. A small over eager kid who's parents where killed during the fight with The Governor quickly got up from laying in the grass and ran over to her.
"Run and tell the others," Sasha shouted. "They're back."
Carol was checking on the progress of the children's playground, when she heard the sound she was listening for. Turning to the gate, she saw Sasha and Maggie unlocking the chains around the gates. Running to the top gate, she did the same. The chain slid nosily to the floor. People nearby dropped what they were holding and rushed to help slid the gate open. The elderly man, one who is in charge of the herb garden, grasped her shoulder in happiness. Carol laughed, covering her mouth and watched as the familiar convoy came into view.
But her happiness was short lived. Her smile turned to a frown and her hands dropped to her sides.
"Who's riding Daryl's bike?" she whispered.
"What happened to the hat we gave you the other day?" Hershel asked a young boy. No older than sixteen but determined to prove himself.
"It made me look stupid," he boy admitted.
"And glowing like a firebug doesn't?" Hershel asked.
The boy had the decency to look embarrassed. Not that you could tell, his whole face was red from sunburn.
The boy looked down at his dirt-covered boots.
Hershel sighed and looked at the cupboard near the exit and said, "Take a look in the cupboard there see if there is something more to your liking."
The boy nodded his head, making sure to avoid eye contact and quickly walked away. Hershel looked at Beth who was watching the whole incident and smiled at her father.
A massive crash, from the metal doors slamming open, shut everyone in the room up. Hershel turned to see Rick jogging into the room. His white shirt covered in blood and his face searching.
"Rick?" Hershel said, his heart dropping at the sight of the blood.
"Hershel!" Rick relaxed a bit finally seeing him. "We need you."
People stood around cleared the area as the rest came in. Running boots sounded behind him. Tyresse and Michonne came running in. They cleared the table with wheels, sweeping their hands, pushing everything carelessly to the floor. Glenn and Maggie rushed in holding open the doors. Daryl ran in, holding a deathly white and blood-covered body in his arms. Tyresse and Michonne rushed towards him with the gurney.
"Doc," he shouted, as he put the body on the table.
Hershel snapped into action, picking up his crutches and hoping double time. He followed the three of them as they pushed the table back through the door, passing a tear-streaked face of Carl.
The noise of the rattling wheels on the metal table echoed noisily off the stone walls down the thin passage. Hershel pushed himself to hurry after. Ignoring the shocked faces of the people standing to the side of the corridor and the sweat blooming on his forehead he carried on.
They three of them slowed once the reached the makeshift room they had prepped for Hershel. He followed in and got a proper look at the person laying on the table top. She was young. Maybe late twenties. Her shoulder length dark hair fanned out over the metal. Her face had a waxy sheen to it he knew only too well.
Abandoning his crutches he clung to the table and grabbed a nearby pair of scissors. Daryl pulled his blood soaked Mexican poncho away from her stomach. Cutting away her ruined hoody, leaving her bloodied sports bra in place, he got a look at the damage. Two 2inch punctures were pierced on either side of her abdomen. The edge's looked tacky, but blood still poured out.
"Help me turn her," Hershel said.
Daryl and Michonne grabbed her shoulder, pulling her to the side. Tyresse grabbed her hips. Hershel bent to looking, pulling the hoody off her free arm.
"Clean puncture. Through and through," Hershel said, "Okay."
They placed her back down. Daryl pulled the top off her last free arm. Hershel grabbed the metal table again and lowered his head.
"Why aren't you doing anything?"
He looked to the door and saw a tall, pale faced guy stood behind Rick who watched on.
"This damage is severe," Hershel said in a soft voice. "Even with proper equipment, this type of surgery is risky. It might be a kindness to -."
"Like hell," the man shouted, going to push past Rick who held him back. "You said if we bought her here you would help!"
Tyresse took over from restraining the distressed man. Rick approached the table and pointed to the girl.
"She saved our lives. Saved my son from this fate," Rick said seriously. "We owe her to at least try."
Hershel looked past Rick to another man and woman stood in the doorway. They were holding two children. Both were clinging to the adult's legs, crying their eyes out.
Hershel took a deep breath and folded up his sleeves, giving the restrained man a piercing look.
"Do you know her blood type?"
"She's the same as me and our brother," he said hopefully.
"I need Maggie in here," Hershel announced bring another wheeled table holding instruments closer to the gurney. "Get a chair son, I'm gonna need ya."